


There Are 333 Ways, But An Archangel Only Needs One

by bumblefuck



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-05
Updated: 2010-10-05
Packaged: 2017-10-12 10:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bumblefuck/pseuds/bumblefuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Gabriel go shopping. It doesn't quite go to plan - for Sam, at least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Are 333 Ways, But An Archangel Only Needs One

"Gabriel, look, this is _not funny._ No matter what you say, I refuse to have a giftwrap tube duel with you."

"Test the fishing rods and see what we can hook from other aisles?"

"No."

"Pretend there's a dead guy in aisle 5?"

 _"No."_

"You know, if you don't want to pretend you already know I can conjure a pretty convincing corpse..."

"Gabriel!" Sam snaps, and the archangel's expression switches to one of wounded innocence, fooling nobody. "I will _not_ do any of the things on that damn list. I will not pretend I can read minds – I don't care that you already can – I won't hold Barbie for ransom, I won't have an epic battle with you using GI Joes and X-Men. I just want to get some food and go back to the motel, okay?"

Gabriel sighs and looks very put out. He nods. "Fine. You hunters are no fun." Then his expression lifts. "Hey, can we get some twizzlers?"

Sam sighs, not for the first time that day, and is about to answer when –

"Okay, sir, I think it's time for you to leave."

Sam turns to face an irritated looking security guard. Resisting his immediate urge to close his eyes until everyone just goes away and he can get back to _normal things_ , like trying to avert the apocalypse, he pastes on a hopefully-real-looking smile and says, "What? But we were just..."

The guy just nods brusquely. "Yeah, I know what you were doing. We've had enough trouble with that damn list without grown men coming in and trying it. What's this, number twenty-three? Honestly, you should know better."

Sam sputters and tries to protest but the guard's already got him by the shoulder and is steering him out of the store. Sam is ejected roughly into the parking lot and stumbles for a bit before righting himself and turning to glare at Gabriel, who of course escaped the guard's wrath and managed to pick up some twizzlers before sauntering outside at his own pace.

The archangel meets Sam's look with an innocent spread of hands – _who, me?_

"So, we're using Bitchface #53 today, I see," he says, and Sam marches up very close to him and grabs him by the collar.

"Gabriel," he says, very slowly and seriously, "what's number 23?"

Gabriel smiles. "Number 23 is while walking around, alone, pretend someone is with you and have a serious conversation."

"But I wasn't alone, you were with me the whole time."

"Yeah, well, I may have been there but I might not have been... visible."

"What?" Sam sputters. "You- you-"

Gabriel shrugs, grins evilly, takes another bite of twizzler, and vanishes with a snap of his fingers.

Sam spends a minute standing in the parking lot with his eyes closed as he breathes deeply and attempts to keep himself from strangling someone, then lets out a whole lot of air in a whoosh and climbs into the Impala. He'll just have to tell Dean that if he wants his damn candy he'll have to get his own next time. He spends the ride wondering if they have any of that holy oil left, and exactly how much it would take to fry an archangel.

Sam wants some really awesome makeup sex for this.


End file.
